


Wise men at their end know dark is right

by sluttyspock



Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Childhood Memories, Childhood Trauma, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Odin (Marvel)'s Bad Parenting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-16
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2019-06-11 08:25:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 799
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15311442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sluttyspock/pseuds/sluttyspock
Summary: “No more resurrections,” Thanos says. Loki knows it to be true.In his dying moments, Loki thinks back on a memory from a millennium ago.(Warnings: character death, implications of child abuse/emotional abuse. Thorki if you squint.)





	Wise men at their end know dark is right

**Author's Note:**

> "Though wise men at their end know dark is right,  
> Because their words had forked no lightning they  
> Do not go gentle into that good night."  
> \-- Dylan Thomas
> 
> Un-beta'd, so there might be some grammatical mistakes. I'll try to clear them up asap!

“No more resurrections,” Thanos says. Loki knows it to be true. 

It feels different, this time -- dying. The last few times, Loki had been able to hold on to a source of magic buried deep within him, his very lifesource itself. But this time, try as he might, his fingers feel like they can’t find purchase on a slippery surface. It’s unlike the time he was hanging on to the edge of the bifrost. Then, every muscle had ached as he gripped the bifrost for dear life, the burn reminding him just how alive he was even as he quite literally hovered at the edge of death. This time, he tries and he tries to wrap his fingers around that source, but he doesn’t seem to have the strength anymore. He can feel his magic flickering, diminishing, dying, bringing him along with it.

“Thor,” he tries to choke out, but his lips only draw closer imperceptibly. No sound escapes. He’s sorry, he really is -- he hadn’t meant to leave Thor this time. Goading Thor had been significantly less fun with Thor fucking around in Norns-knows-where in the cosmos, unable to bear witness to Loki’s schemes. Enough of his misguided animus, he had decided; he would stand by Thor’s side, worthy now as he was of the crown and of Loki’s fealty. But even when he puts his heart into it, Loki can’t seem to stop fucking up. 

Absurdly, his mind flits to a memory from a millennium ago. They had been but boys then, younger than even the time Loki had turned into a snake and stabbed Thor. (In Loki’s defence, Thor had been off with the Warriors Three, mucking around the royal hunting grounds and ignoring Loki, so naturally, Loki did the only thing he could think of to simultaneously get back at Thor and get Thor’s attention. Not much had changed in the intervening thousand years, Loki supposes). Loki blames the ridiculous revival of their childhood gambit earlier that day for the sudden wave of nostalgia. 

They had been running around the training grounds while the warriors were taking a break, the sun hanging high overhead rendering the weather unconducive to further physical exertion. It had been innocent enough fun and Loki didn’t want to stop. When one of their nursemaids, having failed to get the princes to heed their instructions to join them in the shade to cool off, ventured to physically stop the princes in their jousting, Loki unthinkingly released a bout of seidr in her direction to shrug her off. It had been stronger than anticipated, however, with the young prince not yet learning the strength of his raw magic or how to control it, and it sent the nursemaid hurtling across the courtyard and smashing into a pillar with enough force to knock her out. In the ensuing hullabaloo, Thor had grabbed Loki’s hand and together, they ran down the palace corridors and back into their rooms. Odin was going to punish him, Loki knew it. He could hear the deafening thump of Gungnir reverberating through the gilded halls of the throne room, the vibrations making Loki’s entire being tremble from sheer force as much as from fear. The heaving from his sobs and the tears that stung his eyes made it hard to see where they were going, so all Loki could do was to grip Thor’s hand harder and trust his big brother. 

Hiding in their chambers was but a brief reprieve, for he knew there was no where he could hide from the All Father. (The knowledge of where in the palace was secret and how to keep it secret would only come later, in adolescence, when necessity had spurred Loki, desires surging and pants tenting at the briefest glimpse of sweat rolling down the warriors’ muscled backs, to find such enclaves for his dalliances with the long-haired, blonde, broad-shouldered, warriors he had laid his eyes on.) But back then, hiding under the covers of Thor’s cavernous four-poster bed, the harsh light of the summer sun blocked out, Loki had felt almost safe in his brother's embrace. He could hear thunder rumbling outside, the only palpable sign of Thor’s worry. Thor had seemed remarkably self-assured with his arms wrapped around Loki, tucking Loki’s head under his chin, telling Loki that everything was going to be fine.

“It’s okay, Lo. I won’t let Father hurt you,” Thor had whispered as his fleshy little hand reached up to stroke Loki’s hair. “I'll protect you.”

He hadn’t succeeded, then. Thor had failed to do so the past seven years as well, although it was by Loki’s design rather than a lack of trying on Thor’s part. 

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but oh, how Loki wishes that Thor would succeed this time.


End file.
